Goodbye, Mister Kennedy
by espoir-ashes
Summary: A story set in Retribution about Archie coming to terms with his past and his death. Character Death, obviously
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys... IT'S US. Bree and Pippa.

Red Skies - Blue Horizon... but our other account don't work so we're using this one.

Woooh!

Disclaimer: We don't own it, and never will.

This story is just about Archie's past and his coming -to -terms with things like death, and other terrible stuff...

So R & R, enjoy, and please, don't flame.

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The room was silent. Archie Kennedy thought not on his impending death, instead he thought on his long since past childhood.

For many reasons, his childhood had not been pleasant, despite the fortunate manner of his birth.

Yet Archie found himself yearning for the simplicity of youth.

William Bush gathered his belongings quietly, he had been discharged, and out of respect for Kennedy, had decided to leave so the dying man could have a moment with his dearest friend.

Archie took a book from his bedside table.

"Mr. Bush!" He called weakly. His last hours were upon him.

"I know we were never the best of friends, but please, take this. Shakespeare's comedies. You might read them and...learn from them."

Bush smiled hesitantly and took the book, deciding not to be insulted. After all, the man had just saved his life.

"Thank you, Mr Kennedy." He wasn't talking merely of the book. More of the gift of Archie's life.

Archie held out his hand.

"You're welcome, Mr.Bush." He said with a pained laugh. Even breathing hurt now.

Bush took Archie's clammy hand in his own and turned to leave the infirmary.

At the door, he paused and glanced back.

"Goodbye, Mr. Kennedy."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two Check it out guys... by Pippa :)

R&R, enjoy!!

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With each and every laboured breath, Archie Kennedy was slipping away.

Every painful heave of his chest dragged him closer to the edge of the abyss and every torturous gasp was like climbing a ladder towards an eternal light.

He was dying.

Archie himself was no stranger to loss. At many times in his life, his hopes had been dashed, and his spirit had been crushed

Just like the waves endlessly batter a ship in a storm, Archie had been shattered, over and over, thrown about in the wind, emerging a tattered and broken man.

It was a cruel God that only gave him the fulfilment he craved through a painful death and dishonour but it was worth the sacrifice.

God had given him the choice to either live out his last moments in guilt, and regret, in a destructive self-hatred, awaiting the end of his life in agony, knowing he- who could have made a difference- had lived a pointless, bitter life, _or_ he could do this one, simple good deed.

He would have done it anyway. Sometimes it seemed like Horatio was the only person in the world who cared.

he could feel the life in his body waning, the angel of death was approaching, hovering at his side, circling ever closer like a buzzard, waiting for the chance to snatch away his soul.

Archie could not wait for the bitter-sweet relief of death.

after all, his whole life had been merely building up to this moment, this climax of his existence, this crucial point where he was more alive than ever, which was ironically moments before his downfall.

There was just one more thing to do.

Archie pulled out his writing apparatus.

_My dear friend Horatio,_

He wrote,

_I write this on the brink of death, So close to falling down the chasm without an end, and I write because I would like you to know a little more about me and my past before I die…_

_If I hadn't been sent to the navy, I would currently be in my father's parlour, talking about mindless politics and drinking some atrociously expensive alcohol with various members of the nobility._

_Do not mistake me, friend, have few regrets about joining the navy –although the decision was not mine- and would certainly not trade your friendship for that of the king's- I've met him, by the way, not a very nice man, he drinks too much, he eats to much and he's very vulgar-_

_But one of the few regrets I do have is not hearing more about your past and telling you about mine. So here it is…_

_I was born on an estate in the Scottish Countryside to Lord James and Lady Caroline Kennedy._

_I am –was now, I suppose- the heir to my father's estate, and 11th from the throne._

_Of course, I knew I would never reach the throne, but it was a title._

_Yes, my friend, I am a noble, and I know your past experiences with those have been less than pleasant._

_I have two older sisters, the one –Elizabeth- is a flighty, fun loving young thing, and although she is my father's favourite, she would never get the position of head of the family._

_Apart from being a woman, she would have the estate crumbling to pieces in no time at all, thanks to her inclination to spend more time socialising with young men than concerning herself with the estate._

_The other, Victoria, a much quieter girl, only a year older than myself, is sensible, intelligent, and apparently not nearly enthusiastic enough for the Ladyship._

_I myself was –in all modesty- the logical choice for an heir, although I am the middle child, I am, according to my mother, A slightly less outgoing version of my father._

_My two younger twin brothers, James and William, always made some derisive comment when Mama said this._

_My father is one of the most well-loved Nobles in Britain, kind and generous, he was always willing to sit and drink with the 'commoners.' If my mother had not died, it is likely he would be doing the same thing now. Drinking and singing with his servants._

_I adored my father for the man he was before his wife's death. And I have always admired his unfailing diplomacy, his ability to speak his mind, yet at the same time, keep the polite, humble mannerism that he seemed to have been born with._

_He would take me to the harbour when we moved to London and tell me about all the different frigates, their captains, their men and their escapades._

_I had always expressed a love for the navy -although my love for social nights and the theatre was much stronger -which is why, when my mother died after a long illness, my Great Aunty (the great malignant witch, we called her, much to my father's amused exasperation) convinced my father to have me sent away to the navy._

_I was fifteen, and I was put on the Justinian for much the same reason as you:_

_Keane owed my father a great debt, and, aside from that, the son of one of my father's many noblemen friends was a midshipman on that channel beater._

_Jack Simpson._

_Yes, my friend, Jack Simpson._

_One day, you may find out why he hated me so, but for now, the memory is too painful for me to recall._

_Despite all the trials I have encountered in this lifetime, I feel like the sacrifice I made for you gave my life meaning._

_So thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_Your friend,_

_Archibald James Kennedy._

"There," Muttered Archie, setting down the letter, "the last step approaches."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3... woo!! By Breea.

ENJOYNESS

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It was a warm June morning in London. A twelve year-old Archie Kennedy laid sprawled out on the green lawn out side of Kennedy Manor. His father had agreed to take Archie with him down to the harbour to meet a friend of the family. Then he had promised Archie would meet a real captain of a ship.

-

His mother had dressed him in his best breeches and a dark red coat. "It's going to rain later," she told him.

"But it's sunny outside!" Archie said.

"Look at those clouds over the ocean," she said pointing out the window towards the dark clouds over the sea. She adjusted his shirt and kissed him on the head. "Now don't get your clothes dirty before lunch, okay?"

Archie giggled. "Okay, mama."

-

Waiting for his father to finish tacking the horses, Archie almost felt himself drifting off to sleep with the sun warm on his face.

"Archie!" his father called from the cobbled driveway,

Archie stood up quickly and saw the elegant black carriage drawn by two impatient looking horses.

He ran over the lawn excitedly and his father helped him into the passenger seat.

A thirty-six year-old Archie Kennedy woke with a start. He had fallen asleep.

He had heard of people's life flashing before their eyes just before they die, however Archie had been unwilling reminiscing childhood experiences for the past few hours. It had not long ago struck him hard that he would never again see his home. He would never again see his sisters, his brothers, his father or England. The fear of the unknown had brought back painful memories and images. It wasn't so much a fear of death, more the thought of being forgotten. Life would carry on without him, and he would remain, in the eyes of all except for the one person who understood, the disgraced Lieutenant of the Renown.

Archie tried to sit up a little. He did not want to go back to sleep. He didn't want those memories to be the last images of his life. And he was afraid that if he went to sleep he might not wake up.

But as he tried to sit, a burning feeling erupted in his stomach. A sick wave of nausea came over his head and forced him to lie back down.

Many times in his life, Archie had been treated unfairly. Sometimes he prayed that God would take him in his sleep. Or that he would be swiftly killed in battle. But lying on his deathbed, the last thing Archie felt was hate or regret. In fact, he had been blessed.

Horatio Hornblower had saved his life on many occasions. Were it not for him, Archie would have led a short meaningless life. But this day, once and for all, Archie could pay him back. With that which Horatio had given him - life.

The road to the ocean was only a short ride in the carriage. It took Archie and his father ten minutes at the most to reach the dock.

Archie climbed down awkwardly from the tall carriage and landed on a funny angle. For his age, Archie was still fairly short. His knees almost gave way and he fell on the carriage for support. Archie felt eyes on his back.

A young boy, a few years older, with dirty hair and piercing blue eyes, stood with his arms crossed.

As Archie straightened up, James Kennedy stepped elegantly out of the carriage.

"Young Jack!" he said, "Look how you've grown." He shook the boy's hand.

"This is my son Archie," Mr Kennedy said, "Archie, this is Jack Simpson."

Mr James Kennedy and MrJohn Simpson shook hands and greeted each other warmly.

Archie smiled warily at Jack. Feeling his father's eyes on his back, Jack smiled too.

"_Mr Kennedy?"_

"_Wake up, Mr Kennedy…"_

Archie opened his eyes. Dr Clive stood over him a bottle of laudanum in hand.

"You drifted off." Clive smiled. He offered the bottle to Archie.

"No," Archie said. "Thank you."

"Suit yourself," Clive shrugged and placed the back of his hand on Archie's forehead. "Just try to stay awake."

Archie remembered the first time Jack had beaten him like it was yesterday. It was a warm spring evening; Archie was only twelve. Mr Simpson, his wife and Jack had come to Kennedy Manor for dinner. They had finished eating, and Mr Kennedy had told the children to go outside and play. Archie was going to show Jack his new pony, when Jack without warning, took a branch from a nearby tree and hit Archie hard on the head, laughing. Archie didn't remember much afterward, except waking up in the dark, too afraid to move. And when he did try to, the cuts and bruises on his back hurt too much. When his sister came out and found him, Archie told her that he had fallen off his horse.

He was confused, frightened, young and easily broken. He had no idea why he was being punished. The first few times had hurt him, but after that he had learned how to shut it out. He was so young and innocent; death threats were enough to keep Archie from telling. So he had learned to cope with it, learned how to hide pain, cuts and bruises. It didn't really matter that much to him anymore. His dignity was all that remained to be taken, although Jack seemed to have no misgivings about that. He said it was more interesting when Archie fought back.

Archie had been asked to run an errand for his father in town. Turning fourteen had meant that Archie was expected to work more. Not that that was much, after all the Kennedy's were one of the wealthiest families in London.

The Kennedy's stables were at the bottom of a steep hill, in a clearing through a thick mass of pine trees. Archie sat on top of his horse and studied the large red building. There were two figures, one tall and imposing, the other small and vulnerable, standing - apparently talking. Curious, Archie began trotting his horse down the hill.

As he came closer the taller figure left and headed down a track, disappearing into the pine trees. Archie saw that the smaller figure was his sister, Victoria.

Archie hurried the horse down the hill, and as he did Victoria came into clearer view – she was crying.

Archie dismounted at the gate. "Victoria?"

She hadn't heard him coming. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and turned to face her brother. "Hullo Archie."

He hurried to her. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Oh," Victoria took a deep breath and straightened herself up. "Jack… erm… Simpson? One of father's friends' sons…"

Her eyes welled up with tears and she bit her lip.

Archie's expression hardened and his eyes became cold.

While Archie still feared Jack, he would never dream of fighting him. But the one thing that Archie wouldn't take was anybody harming his family.

"What did he do to you, Victoria?" he said, putting his arms around her.

Victoria tried to be strong, but she couldn't stop the tears and they flowed down her soft face and into Archie's shoulder.

"He's a monster, Archie," Victoria sobbed, "He cornered me, then he told me to…" her voice faltered, "You have no idea."

Very close and very loud, the click of a pistol cocking echoed though the pine trees. Jack Simpson stood about a yard away from Archie, pistol in hand.

"Do you remember the part where I said 'If you ever tell a soul I'm going to kill you?'" Jack said to Victoria and laughed cruelly. "Although… I make an exception, I'd hardly call his a soul anyway."

"I'm not going to let you hurt my family," Archie said and took a step closer to Jack and the gun. A surge of rage gave him the courage to look Jack in the eyes. Victoria gripped his hand.

Jack shook his head and smiled. "Don't make me do something you'll regret."

"Go ahead. Shoot me," Archie said through gritted teeth. "At least I'll know then that you will be found out. Then you will pay for what you did to my sister."

Jack faked a surprised look and put the gun to Archie's head. "Well, Archie. I'm impressed. I didn't think you had it in you, you little coward. So I'm going to make you a deal."

Victoria's hand was squeezing his so hard Archie's started shaking violently.

"I won't shoot you. Instead, I will let you both go. But if either of you squeals, I'm going to make your entire family suffer for it. It can be our little secret."

With that he left Archie and Victoria frightened and hopeless.

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If you want more of this story, get on Pippa's case Please R&R!!


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